Tide Lords Fanfic
by KingsGambit
Summary: Cayal, the Immortal Prince had a plan. The world's media outlets were spreading the news of a human discovered alive in the vacuum of space, but none of them yet realised the significance of the find. With some luck, Declan's help and the Tide itself, Cayal was going to do his best to defuse the situation. He just hoped Arkady wasn't still mad at him after 65 million years.
1. Chapter 1

Cayal blinked and shook his head vigorously, clearing it of the strange fog that had come over him without warning and clouded his mind momentarily. He glanced toward the pilot's chair where his fellow Tide Lord sat unmoving. The helicopter in which they were flying was dipping dangerously towards the rough waves of the Pacific Ocean below, uncontrolled and losing the battle against gravity.

"Rodent!" Cayal nudged Declan Hawkes, then shook his arm with greater vigour when the first approach failed to elicit a response. "Not a good time to sleep Rodent. We might survive the crash but it's a bloody long swim back to Japan."

Declan stirred and awoke with a start, shaking his own head in a mirror of Cayal seconds earlier. The helicopter twitched sideways and worryingly further downwards in response to Declan's involuntary movement, his hands having remained locked around the cyclic, but he immediately took in the situation and wasted no time restoring the chopper to a steady and level trajectory, his hands and feet manipulating controls and pedals with practised ease.

"Ah, you're back. I thought you were dead for a moment there." Cayal said, not quite able to hide the worry from his voice entirely.

"Very funny. Did you feel that to?" replied Declan. "And what did you mean when you said 'magic word'?"

"What?" Cayal paused, as though that should mean something to him but couldn't think of what. "Magic word? I didn't say anything. We were both out of it for moment there. The question is, for how long was it? And was it the Tide?"

Declan looked at the roiling, frothy waves below but with ocean stretching in every direction as far as he could see, the GPS would be a better, if not entirely reliable indicator of their location. "I don't know what it was. We've hardly moved at all from where we were. It must have been only a few seconds. Never mind, we're done here. Let's get back to solid ground."

"Good idea Rodent. If you can keep this metal monster from crashing maybe we won't have to swim back." Cayal needled him, already back in his usual spirits. Even after tens of millions of years he never tired of the game, but he suspected Declan knew that his constant fun at his expense had lacked any real venom or malice for at least the last few thousand millennia.

"Shut up Cayal, unless you want to fly yourself or get out and ride the Tide back with a magic carpet you happen to have on you." Cayal looked out at the uninterrupted view of the ocean, stretching from horizon to horizon.

"You know, that's not a bad idea. If I arrived on the coast of Japan riding a tidal wave on the back of a whale or shark, that would certainly give the mortals and their wretched media outlets something to talk about. Other than the worsening conditions of the planet or discovering a living human in the vacuum of space that is". Cayal stared at Declan expectantly while Declan remained silent for a time.

"I don't want to talk about this Cayal. Not now." Declan replied woodenly. Since video footage arrived from Declan's, or rather Deke Hawkins' corporation's space exploration vessel, the _Cape Canaveral_, showing Arkady Desean, Declan's first love and Cayal's last, alive and having survived for over sixty million years in the extreme cold of space where no human could venture unprotected and live, he'd been worried and his usual confident demeanour was starting to fray. Declan's father, the immortal Tide Lord Lukys, suggested at their recent meeting that all seven of the immortals who came through the rift they had opened and that had brought them to Earth from Amyrantha so many millions of years ago, should consider moving on again. To open the rift that time had taken the combined efforts of several Tide Lords, channelling every drop of Tide magic they could at High Tide. And that High Tide was to this coming one as a regular tide was to that one.

That High Tide had risen in a matter of months and years. This one had been coming in for almost a century and still hadn't peaked. Even with it only as high as it was, Cayal knew there was enough power there that a single Tide Lord could cause a devastating cataclysm if he, or she, should choose to. Cayal and Declan were both powerful Tide Lords, as were Kentravyon, Lukys, Maralyce and Coryna, four of the five other immortals that had made it through the rift to Earth. The seventh was Arryl who, while not able to wield the Tide remotely close to the same level the others could, was no less accomplished a healer for it, nor was she any less immortal than they were. She was also the only other immortal privy to their recent actions to foil Lukys' plan to open another rift.

As well as an immense amount of Tide magic, opening a rift between worlds required the Chaos Crystal, a crystal carved in the shape of a human-like skull. It drew in and absorbed the Tide as a sponge does water, storing it in greater quantities than any Tide Lord could individually. Lukys could manipulate and harness this enormous reserve of magic to open a gateway between worlds, but such was the power involved in the undertaking that the forces unleashed by the rift's closing was enough to annihilate a planet. Cayal's and Declan's birth world, Amyrantha was gone, destroyed more than sixty five million years ago when they had come here. All that remained of that planet were lifeless chunks of rock, now asteroids orbiting the Earth and Mars. Well not entirely lifeless...one of the other immortals had been found. Well that wasn't entirely true either...an immortal no one knew about survived. Arkady Desean. A woman both Cayal and Declan had loved and thought lost. A woman who had been very much mortal the last time they had seen her.

"We have to talk Rodent. This is a pretty big problem we have on our hands and if we don't do something, Lukys and the others will." Cayal said forcefully. He knew Declan knew he was right, but the two of them had come to an unwritten, unspoken accord about Arkady shortly after arriving on Earth and Declan was evidently finding it a lot harder to break than Cayal was. "If they decide they want the Chaos Crystal we just flew hundreds of miles out here to hide, there may be awkward questions asked. And neither of us wants to see this world destroyed as Amyrantha was."

"I don't want to talk about this now. Let me concentrate on flying and if we really have to talk, wait till we're back in Tokyo." Declan persisted. Despite the handful of weeks since all the immortals had met in Paris, Declan still needed a little longer alone with his thoughts. Cayal thought it strange. After all, if he hadn't come to terms with the destruction of Amyrantha or their supposedly lost love, Arkady, after sixty-something million years, what possible help would a few more hours be? Still, it wasn't an unreasonable request, Declan hadn't dismissed Cayal entirely as he feared might happen and if being immortal had taught Cayal anything, it was patience.

"Suit yourself then Rodent. I'll wait then." Cayal shuffled about on his seat to get more comfortable, or as comfortable as the cramped co-pilot's chair would allow. "I think I'll get some sleep in the meantime. Try to avoid any turbulence and wake me up when we get there." His eyes were closed and he was feigning sleep in an instant, as though he even could get any sleep with the constant noise of the rotors mere feet above his head. The noise also gave him a perfect excuse for missing Declan's passionate, eloquent, extensive and frankly quite rude reply. He smiled inwardly. Despite the passing of countless millennia, the game never got old.

Hours later, Declan and the Immortal Prince found themselves in an elevator heading to the top floor office Deke Hawkins kept in Tokyo. The return helicopter journey and subsequent flight on a private jet, followed by the final stretch from the small airport in a comfortable, stretched limo had been uneventful and mostly silent, apart from some banal chit-chat. Declan couldn't put the Immortal Prince off any longer and the worst part was that Cayal was right. They did need to do something, but none of Declan's ideas sat well with him. He sighed as the elevator came to a stop and he straightened his suit's jacket and tie as the door opened. His personal assistant was there, sat behind a large desk, a sentry guarding the double doors that lead to the office of the world's richest man. He probably had some important messages describing company matters that required his attention. But business would have to wait; there was no time for that now.

"Taine, I won't be seeing any more visitors or taking any more calls today. You can finish for the day and I'll see you tomorrow." He pre-empted his PA before he could even welcome Declan back, or ask difficult questions about where his boss had been that he really couldn't answer.

"Oh, of course Mr. Hawkins. Your messages?" Taine asked.

"Tomorrow Taine. Thank you. Feel free to use the limo for the rest of the day."

"Of course, thank you sir."

Declan didn't wait as his assistant shut down his computer and began tidying his desk, but instead opened his office door and let Cayal precede him in. The Immortal Prince made his way in silently, apart from his footsteps, expensive leather shoes clacking on the grey marble floor and heading unerringly towards the sideboard and its small array of liquors. He poured two snifters of expensive brandy, one modestly and the other almost to the brim, replaced the crystal decanter and took both glasses over to the lounge area of the office. Declan walked to his glass-topped desk and pretended to be absorbed in checking paperwork and other corporate affairs. He didn't, but it bought him some precious few more seconds. But neither his heart nor his mind were in the charade and instead he sighed again and went to stand by the massive window with its sweeping panorama of Tokyo at dusk. He didn't say anything and for once, perhaps in a rare show of empathy, neither did Cayal. Declan took in a last deep breath and squared his shoulders, savouring this last moment of calm before turning back to the Immortal Prince. The eternal twenty six year old Prince of Kordana, a country even longer dead than the planet it had been part of (if not by very much) was leaning back on the generous two-seater, white leather sofa, one leg folded over the other in a figure of four, hands behind his head. In front of him on the glass coffee table was an empty snifter, opposite to which was another that still contained a very modest amount of Declan's brandy.

Declan walked to the identical sofa across the coffee table from where Cayal lounged, downed his miserly drink in a single gulp and sat down with a quiet "Oomph" as he savoured the quiet burn at the back of his throat. He was interested to hear what Cayal had to say but maybe he could at least control the conversation.

"What do you think Lukys is going to do? What would Arryl have told him?" Declan asked, beginning with a subject they were both comfortable with.

"It's anyone's guess Rodent. He's your father; I would have thought you'd have a better idea of what he's likely to do than I would." Cayal replied noncommittally.

"Is that the best you can offer? We're not exactly a typical father and son and besides, you've known him longer. If you've got nothing useful to say then why are you still here?"

"You're asking the wrong questions Rodent. Look, we've done the best we can for right now. The Skull of Doom is hidden deeply enough that the pressure alone will crush the life out of any living thing that gets even halfway near it. That's assuming they even knew where to look." Cayal wasn't saying anything Declan didn't already know though he was wrong about one thing.

"It won't crush the life out of an immortal Cayal. But obviously it was the best way to stop the others from getting any ideas about destroying this world as they did Amyrantha. At least Arryl is with us too. Speaking of which...?" Declan left the question hanging.

"The plan was that she would take the skull to Lukys in an identical case to the one I brought the real crystal in. She'd meet them at the same hotel where we met them not that long ago, and hand it over with no idea that it was a fake. She's not a Tide Lord so wouldn't have felt the same, definitive effect in its vicinity as we did, and it was given to her already packaged by a mortal who couldn't tell one artifact from another. She's safe and ignorant, we were in Tokyo and have no idea where the real deal could be." Cayal said in an echo of the original plan the three of them had come up with in Paris. "But you already know that Rodent".

"Then why are you still here, drinking my brandy if all you're talking about are things we both already know." Declan asked exasperated.

"Because you're avoiding the real issue" Cayal responded without missing a beat.

"I..." Declan stammered. "I'm doing no such thing! What is the real issue then?"

"Arkady. Desean." Cayal let that hang in the air for what felt like an age before continuing, "She's the reason Lukys suggested we use the Skull of Doom in the first place. She's the reason for the awkward questions all over the wretched media and she's the reason we hid the Chaos Crystal. Well, not the whole reason for that last part, but indirectly she is." Cayal must have been at least as uncomfortable as Declan himself was talking about the woman who had unknowingly and for no actual effort on her part, caused the original animosity... or at least ambivalence between the two immortals. She had driven each of them to actions they would not have taken in her absence. She had also been mortal when the rift had opened. Declan still remembered her with crystal clarity, despite the eons that had passed since her supposed death... not the image of her from the video footage taken recently from aboard the _Cape Canaveral_, but her as a girl and as a young woman in the slums of Glaeba where they had both grown up, and later as a woman, a Duchess and for the blink of an eye, his lover.

"She's stuck in space till the ship returns and that mission isn't due to end until the crew either find what they're looking for, or two years, whichever is the sooner. Tell me what on Earth we can do about that without making things worse?" Declan asked, silently hoping Cayal really did have a better idea than he did, while still wishing they didn't have to have this conversation.

Cayal closed his eyes for a long moment, long enough that Declan wondered if he'd even heard him. Eventually he did speak, and without opening his eyes answered him. "Finally, you ask the right question Rodent. And if you can shut up for a few minutes, I'll tell you."


	2. Chapter 2

Cayal didn't say anything for a time; an immortal didn't really need to hurry with anything after all. Instead, Declan felt him reach for the Tide, watched his face as he fought the lure of plunging too far into its seductive depths. Across the office, the crystal decanter containing Declan's favourite brandy rose unsteadily and sailed slowly toward Cayal. As it neared, both of the empty snifters rose from the table to wait expectantly, suspended in front of Cayal who plucked the decanter from the air and in a single, fluid motion removed the stopper and poured. This time both glasses were brimmed, which was handy as Declan felt he could _really_ use the drink. Declan's snifter floated back towards him without so much as a drop spilled or a ripple from its honey-coloured liquid cargo as Cayal replaced the stopper and let go of the decanter. Instead of plummeting to the marble floor with a crash however, it straightened and floated serenely down to the low, glass-topped table with a barely audible clink. The Tide Lords picked their respective glasses out of the air and sipped, Cayal letting go of the Tide as he did so.

It was a shame, Declan thought, that it took so much alcohol to get him drunk; this conversation would likely be much easier if he were. Though considering the cost, drinking enough of this particular brandy to get an immortal drunk would pay for everything else in this entire building, including the valuable paintings and sculptures adorning his office's walls and shelves, with some change leftover. Declan watched the Immortal Prince take a quiet gulp of the fiery liquor, blissfully unaware that his single mouthful probably cost more than even an average family in the developed world today could earn in a week between them. Such were the woes facing the planet just then.

Different parts of the Earth each faced their own problems ranging from earthquakes, submerging following the melting polar icecaps, flood, famine, drought, tsunamis that carried sea water inland and destroyed once fertile farmland, greenhouse gases, dying rainforests and more. But all nations alike were suffering economic difficulties and resource shortages unheard of in the modern era. Except for AEVITAS Inc. that is, which continued to buck the trend, Deke Hawkins' corporation founded to help alleviate the Earth's suffering by finding resources out in space, mining the asteroids that are all that remained of Amyrantha after the Chaos Crystal had finished with it.

"I'm going to be entirely honest with you Rodent, for probably the first and only time in history." Cayal began, as though he had rehearsed this conversation many times prior to today.

"That would make a change for you. I'm all ears," Declan tried to retort with something clever but realised too late he was probably only giving Cayal more ammunition. "And can't you use my name for once?"

"I could, but I won't and that's part of what I'm trying to tell you if you will shut up for a minute and listen". Declan did that for once, sighing, steeling himself in preparation of what might come. "And stop sighing already. You've been worse than a love-struck teenager since we got in the car." Cayal realised that he may have hit a little too close to the mark there, unintentional though it was, and any inconsideration on his part right now really wouldn't help the odd rapport they now shared. "Sorry, look, let me just talk, okay? Ignore that last part."

Declan was mature enough and way, way past the point where he would take genuine offence for an unintended slight. Millions of years of living was bound to endow anyone with a thick skin. Frankly he still found it hard to believe that he even _had_ a rapport with Cayal.

He nodded. "Ignored, get on with it Cayal.". Declan could see Cayal was actually being serious for once so paid due attention, or at least tried to look like he did. That was evidently enough for the royal Tide Lord who saw his cue and took it.

"Putting the issue of Arkady aside for a minute, we've been here a long time. Neither of us wants to see the Earth destroyed any more than we did our home. Agreed?"

"Well now that you mention it, as I recall you were suicidal and didn't care what became of Amyrantha, or anyone else for that matter."

"Fair point, but will you at least concede that if not for my obsession at the time, I didn't actually _want_ to see the world destroyed, or to come through the rift let alone live forever on this new world? And that I didn't actively seek it, or would have taken part in opening the rift that brought us here if not for wanting to die?" Cayal needed to make this point, needed Declan to concede it, to agree. It was where they would find the first common ground. Declan sighed. "And stop sighing."

"Fine Cayal, fine." That reply was genuine enough, even if it was forced, exasperatedly given and waved along.

"Neither you, nor Arryl, nor I wanted Amyrantha destroyed, it was our birth world. For you perhaps even less so because you were newly minted and the mortals you grew up with were still alive. We came here against our will but we must admit that in some ways this is a better world. Lukys was right about some things."

"Explain." Declan ordered, seeking clarification on where Cayal was going with this. He approached board meetings and company directors much the same way.

"I am trying to, Rodent. Lukys made us promise not to interfere, to let life evolve here with only a little encouragement from us. Without the politics and jostling for power that occupied the immortals on Amyrantha every time the Tide came in. No Jaxyn or Tryan, no Krydence or Rance, no Diala the minion maker, no Lyna, and thank the Tide no Syrolee, no Brynden or the others. We've survived here for tens of millions of years without strife between the immortals, without the mortals even knowing about our existence, without cataclysms sending humanity back to the stone age every few millennia" Declan raised his eye brow at that last statement. "Okay, fine, one cataclysm, but it wasn't my fault" Declan's eyebrow remained where it was. "Fine, fine it was my fault. But I was pretty upset at the time. And who misses the dinosaurs anyway?"

"You were upset I'll grant you that much. Took you twenty thousand years to come out of your cave and stop sulking"

"It was only fifteen thousand years" Cayal said defensively, clearly not the first time he'd had this particular argument.

"Coming outside to stare silently at the sky for an hour before returning to your cave for another five thousand years doesn't count." Declan retorted.

"Fine, twenty thousand, whatever, it's not important." Cayal said hurriedly, preferring to gloss over the point than concede that he really had been sulking for twenty millennia and had to get used to the idea he really wasn't ever going to die. "Lukys did lie to me anyway, or at least didn't use the Skull of Doom to kill me when he had the chance. I mean he did kill the damn rat in the end. And probably all the other immortals we left behind too. Or at least, so we thought." Back to Arkady again.

"What's your point Cayal?" Declan asked, increasingly uncomfortable by the conversation he was forced to take part in. This time Cayal sighed.

"Look Rodent, in case you haven't noticed, you and I are in this together. Arryl too; I'm confident enough to speak for her in this as well. We were all born on Amyrantha, while the other four that also made it through have been hopping from world to world, and destroying them in their wake for more years than we, or even they, can count. We three are our own little Trinity." Cayal was referencing the trio of Arryl, Ambria and Medwen, three immortals who wanted no part of the politics that seemingly went with being a member of their exclusive club and formed the _Trinity_, Goddesses overseeing the welfare of the Crasii of the Senestran wetlands. A noble if harmless cause and a reason to wake up each day... not that they had much choice in that part.

"We three were born on Amyrantha," he repeated, "and mourned its destruction. We still mourn for it. And you and I particularly would have been quite happy back then to see an end to the immortals. Me so I could die, you because you were the 'Golden Boy' of the Cabal of the Tarot." That stirred some long forgotten and ancient memories in Declan, memories of the eccentric purple-haired Tilly Ponting, Guardian of the Lore, Head of the Pentangle, the inner circle of the Cabal. He had indeed been a part of the inner workings of the secret society, a group dedicated to collecting any and all information about the immortal Tide Lords with their ultimate goal to rid the world of them once and for all. Even after he became immortal in a fire that got out of control, his mortality immolated out of him even as the flames consumed Lebec Prison, he still sought out Tilly and later endeavoured to discover a way to kill the immortals if he could, or prevent them destroying the world if he couldn't. Had he succeeded, he might also have been able to rid himself of his own immortality, live a mortal lifetime with Arkady in a world free from the Tide Lords. _To be young and naïve again_ he mused. Cayal continued oblivious to Declan's reminiscences.

"We both came here against our will but have long since made peace with it. Neither of us wants to see this world destroyed. Both of us are glad for a world without more like us causing problems for mortal and immortal alike every time the Tide comes in. Both of us agreed to hide the Chaos Crystal to curtail the possibility of another rift, starting over again on another world, destroying this one in the process." Cayal paused for a second while Declan absorbed this. He knew all of this of course, but could never have admitted it, at least not aloud, at least not by choice and least of all to the Immortal Prince. And he guessed that if not for Arkady reappearing, Cayal would never have either. Cayal worked himself up to the hardest part now. "Both of us loved Arkady too, Rodent. Both of us missed her and mourned for her and both of us shut up about it in case it pissed the other one off."

"Then why talk about it now?" Declan asked, though he knew it was a stupid question even as the words left his mouth.

"Because she's up there Rodent." Cayal pointed toward the darkening sky through the large, panoramic window, the neon haze of Tokyo at deepening dusk seeping in through the glass, subtly painting his office with coloured, flickering hues. "She's alive and immortal. We have to deal with this for a few reasons. I also know for a fact that you're not as stupid as you look, or as you dress for that matter and are as well aware of that as I am." Declan could tell this was what this entire conversation had been leading to and decided his best course of action was to remain silent. "Considering she's alive and was mortal, not just mortal but without even any immortal blood in her, there is a lot here we don't know. The first question needing to be answered, did Lukys use the Chaos Crystal to transfer Elyssa's immortality and consciousness into Arkady's body after all, the same way he did Coryna's from your namesake, Coron the Rat, into Oritha his mortal wife? If so, then it's not Arkady up there but the Immortal Maiden, who you will remember, was almost as powerful with the Tide as you are... though obviously not quite so powerful as me" Declan smiled a smile he didn't feel for Cayal's attempt at humour, but what he was saying was quite serious, even if it was an implication that he had both already considered, and greatly feared. Elyssa was as self-serving as any of the other immortals on Amyrantha had been. She had aided Lukys in opening the rift only because Cayal had promised himself to her, and further had promised Arkady's body to her. The chance to be beautiful and desirable, to be free of the curse of eternal virginity that had always plagued her... for that she would have done anything. Even if it meant destroying a world.

"So what?" Declan prompted, his unease about discussing Arkady growing.

"So what?" Cayal parroted. "So what Rodent? We either have an immortal Arkady, or an immortal Elyssa in Arkady's body aboard your wretched exploration vessel. She doesn't speak any Earth language, has no reason as to how she came to be there, understanding of being immortal and if she's also a Tide Lord, then who knows what might happen? Simply by being found, Arkady has started the mortals asking questions we don't want to answer and religions worshipping her as the herald of the Second Coming if the news channels are to be believed."

"Well that's not likely considering who was behind the First Coming, is it?" Declan genuinely smiled at that, enjoying watching Cayal squirm.

"I already explained in Paris that wasn't my fault, they weren't supposed to see me getting up again. Anyway, maybe I will miraculously reappear. It's almost High Tide after all, and I haven't been worshipped for... well just over two thousand years." Cayal quipped. Declan waited again, no answer really needed to that. "So we need to do something, you and I. Everything I said before, we both know it's true so let's just skip arguing about it and get to the point. We're in this immortal thing together, Rodent. We're as much brothers as we're ever going to find in this very, very long lifetime and we both want the same thing here. Now I have an idea that should fix things."

"Should?" Declan asked, trying hard to ignore the disconcerting and sudden openness in Cayal, who subconsciously Declan had already long considered a confidant, if not a friend... or a brother. He just didn't want to admit it. At least not to this man.

"We have three problems as I see it. And if we do this right we can solve, or if not, mitigate all three."

"They are?"

"First, we need to get Arkady to Earth. Second, we need to keep the mortals from finding out anything about us, or at least anything more than they already have. Third, we need to keep Lukys and the others from looking for the Chaos Crystal."

"Those are pretty big problems. And why do you even care Cayal?" Declan knew Cayal did care, but he wasn't ready to let Cayal know he knew that... yet..

"I don't want to see this world destroyed like Amyrantha was. That's why we're both here after all. But this is about something more important than you or me for once, Rodent." Even 'Rodent' had for many millennia become almost a term of endearment for Cayal. Declan had long since become used to it. He was paying attention now.

"What is that then, O' Immortal Prince?"

"This is about Arkady, Rodent. Not about you or I. Not about the Skull, not about the mortals, the other immortals, '_Asteroid Girl_' or anything else. It's about her. We owe her that much. And if it is Elyssa up there and not Arkady, we need to deal with that too for pretty much the same reasons." Cayal leaned back, he'd said his piece. Now it was up to Declan. Only he, as Deke Hawkins had any resources that might help. He thought for a few moments, his mind processing everything his... immortal brother, had told him then found his resolve. He nodded.

"Fine Cayal. Tell me what you have in mind." He said with conviction. Now that he had made the decision to act, he would see it through. Cayal smiled and leaned forward, his forearms resting on his knees, hands clasped.

"Magic and science, Rodent. We need magic and science. I'll be providing the one, you the other. And between us we just might pull it off. Now shut up and listen, here is the plan."


	3. Chapter 3

Arkady Desean awoke with a start and an uncomprehending shock at her surroundings, as she had each time since first waking here... wherever here was. She would have jumped had she not been bound to a chair, comfortable though it was. Her surroundings were still alien and despite the days, or weeks that she had been kept in this same place, it was still with a start at the sight that greeted her every morning. Or at least she thought of it as morning. She could see neither the Sun nor the night sky and so had no concept of time here. It was a small room with her chair (_or was it a bed?_), two metal doors and some pieces of what she had deduced were likely machines of some sort, as the only furnishings. She suspected it might be a room for practising medicine in after once spotting clean, metal implements before the people keeping her here hid them away, alien looking but not greatly dissimilar to the sort her father had used in his work as a doctor. Light, when it came emanated from four squares in the metal ceiling above her, a pure, bright, white colour that she had never seen before and without the flickering warmth of a burning torch. She expected it was Tide magic of some sort, or possibly more of the luminescent moss from the Ice Chamber that knew when it was time to sleep, when it was time to wake and required no conscious effort on the part of her strange captors.

Lights that blinked in unnatural shades of red, blue, green and yellow flickered on and off of their own volition about her, each she supposed a glo-bug like those from the Senestran wetlands trapped behind coloured glass. She had no other explanations for this place and her jailors didn't seem inclined to offer her any. Well in their defence they clearly didn't speak Glaeban and she didn't speak whatever it was they spoke so for all she knew they were trying to answer the questions she didn't know how to ask with answers she couldn't understand. They treated her well enough, apart from the bindings around her wrist and ankles which, she thought, were probably not an unreasonable precaution if a stranger had appeared near your home, unable to explain how, or why she had come to be there.

Which was actually a very good question that she simply couldn't answer, despite much time devoted to trying. She had thought on it considerably, during these interminable, passing hours when none of the strange people in this jail visited her. How had she arrived here? Where was she? Who were these people? What became of Jelidia and the immortals that were in the Ice Chamber with her when the rift opened? Were Cayal, Declan or her husband, Stellan looking for her? How much time had passed? Perhaps they had given up the search for her. That was sadly as far as she could get. She remembered the ice altar upon which she lay, beside Lukys' wife Oritha, the swarthy, Torlenian beauty he had chosen as the vessel for his eternal love, Coryna. She remembered being unable to so much as twitch an eyelid or make a sound as Cayal stood over her, wondering aloud what her fate would be, all the while determined to end his own by holding onto the crystal skull she had carried from Caelum to Jelidia as it opened and shut a rift between worlds. Had it worked? Had Lukys' plan to leave Amyrantha worked? Had his plan to transfer Coryna into the body of Oritha been successful? She suspected that last quite likely considering what came next for her.

The pain was first thing she remembered. Pain so excruciating and so total she suspected that even had she been in full control of her voice and body she could neither have so much as whimpered nor twitched in response to it. Every nerve had screamed, every muscle clenched, her very skin had burned in anguish more intense even than being covered in gobie ants and slowly eaten alive had been. Then there came the presence against her consciousness, a growing, forceful pressure in her head trying to stifle and smother her will, her mind, force her from it and make way for Elyssa. Cayal had promised her body to the Immortal Maiden in a poorly considered, if noble attempt to save her life in Caelum. Each time she replayed the arrival of the three immortals at the ruins in which she hid, trying in vain as it turned out to keep the presence of a Scard family from the Tide Lords, she realised that Cayal actually had likely done the only thing he could to keep her alive. She didn't want to admit that however, didn't want to credit or forgive him for dragging her on a journey that ultimately found her lying prone on a frozen altar, but knew she would have died, killed by one amoral Tide Lord or the other if he had not.

Cayal had also promised her that Lukys had no intention of helping him keep his first misguided promise to Elyssa. He had sought to help her stay alive as best as he could, even as he had drawn her deeper into the events that would likely kill her. Then the pain, the glow of the Chaos Crystal, the war for her mind and body and then... nothing. She remembered nothing else, had seen or heard nothing familiar since and as she had each day since first waking, found herself staring around a room that was her cell and at strange people she couldn't understand.

She adjusted her arms and legs in the leather restraints to restore some circulation. They weren't uncomfortably tight, but still tight enough to fulfil their purpose. Even as her thoughts returned to her hosts, the four mysterious and perfectly square lights above her head flickered and lit up their bright, unnatural white, forcing her to avert her gaze. It was morning again, and with the lights came a strange hiss as the door to her cell opened without a hand upon it and the strangely clothed, _or armoured_ people she now recognised by sight if not by name, came to bring her food. It was Randy, the young man who she suspected had developed something of a fixation on her and the door closed magically behind him. He followed the commands of the older woman, Emma whom Arkady supposed was his senior in more than just age, perhaps a tribe elder of some sort.

Several of the other members of this strange family, or group, or whatever they were, she had also met. Most just stared at her, occasionally exchanging gibberish between themselves without taking their eyes from her. Under such scrutiny Arkady wondered self-consciously if she was grossly malformed or injured somehow, or had grown a third eye or scales like the chameleon crassi, but she knew that wasn't the case. Others would try talking to her hurriedly and leave without waiting for a response, excited or anxious. Randy, Emma and another, older man whose name she could neither remember nor pronounce at least tried to have a conversation, whether or not she could actually participate in it. And so it was to be this morning.

"Good morning Arkady." said Randy, carrying a tray of something steaming and what she had come to recognise was a glass of strange tasting but quite lovely milk, placing it on a table that she thought was the first she had ever seen made of metal. He approached Arkady slowly, her watchful eyes never leaving him and bent close to undo her restraints. He didn't need a key but simply pulled at the straps which magically came apart with a loud, tearing hiss. As he undid the second of her wrist restraints, he _accidentally_ brushed his hand against hers. She felt that was more than a little creepy and knew it to be quite deliberate on his part, but didn't want to risk any goodwill towards her from her jailors by making an issue of it. It was harmless enough and if anything, might make the young man (he actually appeared to be about Arkady's age but he just seemed much younger, to her at least) more sympathetic towards her. She recognised her name being spoken and had assumed the first part was a greeting of some sort, possibly along the lines of 'Good Morning' in Glaeban, though she had no way to be sure about that. Each time she was awoken this way however the words were the same.

"Good. Morning. Randy." she replied slowly, making a concentrated effort to form the strange sounds and words whose meaning eluded her. She rubbed her wrists once they were free but the pins and needles disappeared rapidly and he stepped back to allow her to get up. She bounced on her ankles a few times to work out the stiff and sore joints and muscles and he gestured her towards the only other door in her cell which led to what she could only describe as a washroom that, like the table, was almost entirely made of metal. The door slid closed behind her with a hiss and she took one, then two and a third deep breath, closing her eyes, gathering her thoughts and thankful for these precious few moments alone and unrestrained. She looked at the small mirror on the wall to examine her reflection and saw a clean, blemishless face staring back. Her skin was flawless and unmarked despite her ordeals starting with her brief stay in Lebec Prison where she was reunited with her father, long thought dead and later, being carted across the Great Lake which the bastard Jaxyn had frozen over in order to march his feline army to Caelum, dragging her in its wake. A sojourn in the Caelish ruins with Boots and her pups and later Warlock, the tall, muscular Scard who she had accidentally stabbed (well intentionally stabbed, but only because she didn't know who it was she was stabbing), and then her weeks long sea voyage to freezing Jelidia. She wondered whatever had become of Warlock and Boots, and of Tiji, the chameleon Scard who had somehow ended up in the Ice Chamber along with herself. She hoped they were well and unharmed as she was, wherever they were, if not free as she was not.

She pushed a button that brought the sound of water and an instant later, water itself appeared from a hole at the end of an angular metal tube. After a brief moment it was comfortably hot and she marvelled at the ingenuity of a device that could provide water, both hot and cold on demand and in seemingly endless supply. There was another such device high on the wall behind her that could also bring forth water in a jet, much like a fountain could. Emma had spent a lot of time painstakingly demonstrating what all these devices were for, all of which seemed geared toward getting clean. Washing herself while standing upright was a strange, uncomfortable experience Arkady didn't particularly care for, but she had no idea how to ask if there was a bath available, nor whether it might be considered offensive to ask these people where she could find one.

Taking full advantage of the short time she had, she made her ablutions and even ran a small brush she had been given over her teeth vigorously, as Emma had demonstrated with considerable patience, even going so far as to put the brush into Arkady's mouth for her the first time. This she did enjoy, especially the alien but nevertheless very pleasant taste of the strange substance she put on the bristles before running them over her teeth, leaving her feeling quite refreshed. If she ever made it back to Glaeba, this was one idea she would definitely steal. She dried herself off with a towel (which she recognised even if it looked and felt quite alien) and allowed herself one more steadying breath before beginning what she thought of as breakfast, and almost certainly the difficult and incomprehensible conversation that went with it, from a man that made her quite uncomfortable and the return to her restraints shortly after. Still she thought, it could be worse. She touched the square beside the door which opened with a hiss, followed by another as she stepped through and back into her cell.


	4. Chapter 4

Seating herself in what had become her usual place by the small, metal table, Arkady avoided meeting the gaze of the young man opposite with the tray of food providing a perfect excuse. The food was familiar yet foreign to her. Bread was provided, but it was served as a small and perfectly formed square. It was warm, not just-out-of-the oven warm but as though it had been intentionally burned by a flame and allowed to go hard. It was crisp and crunchy though a little dry and tasteless without any of the strange tasting butter. It was clearly butter but made as though by a stingy farmer trying to make as much as he could with very little, the result that it lacked much real flavour. The eggs (at least Arkady hoped that was what they were) were strangest of all. She had never before seen them prepared in such a fashion, presented as they were as a solid, pale yellow lump. She ate regardless and finished everything they gave her, afraid perhaps that any one of these meals might be the last should her hosts disposition suddenly change. She wasn't even particularly hungry and she still marvelled at that considering that despite weeks in captivity, albeit quite humane captivity, she had not lost any weight. It was simply extraordinary that a prisoner could maintain both their health and weight in spite of their imprisonment..

Still, she thought wistfully, this wasn't a typical imprisonment and very far removed from Recidivists Row back in Lebec. Her captors treated her well, she was fed and allowed to bathe regularly, even if she hadn't once been permitted outside to see the sky or breathe fresh air. Her captors were never cruel to her, she hadn't been harmed once... if she didn't include that time they had inserted a fascinating needle into her arm to remove some blood. Even then however, they had been cautious, demonstrating the process on themselves first, doing their best to minimise pain or discomfort, of which there was surprisingly little. She couldn't understand their language, but their actions and gestures certainly helped. If only they allowed her fresh air, she would consider herself a lucky prisoner indeed. Lacking the excuse of a preoccupation now that she had finished eating, there was left an awkward and expectant silence. Taking the initiative Arkady hoped, perhaps today would yield some progress.

"Thank. You." she eventually managed. These were simple words that one or other of her visitors would try to teach her during the quiet parts of the day. Quiet presumably for them, though she had no idea what they did outside of this room. It was always quiet for her.

"You're welcome Arkady." replied Randy, trying hard and failing to keep his voice entirely steady, she suspected because of her presence.

"_You must realise I don't understand what you just said there, yes?_" she asked in Glaeban.

"I'm sorry I don't understand what you just said there." Randy said apologetically. Arkady sighed, her shoulders slumping. This was the same every day. She could manage a handful of words given context, but otherwise these strange people (she couldn't even guess where they were from, lacking any physical characteristics that might indicate their lands of birth, at least any that she could recognise,) could only communicate with her at a very basic level. It was tiresome and frustrating, particularly when she had so many questions.

At least they had stopped wearing their strange suits of armour, perhaps conceding that she wasn't a threat. The time she had seen these people, and several times after, they came in dressed in bulky white suits that were remarkably flexible, not of any material she recognised. And their helmets were perfectly round with a completely opaque, bronzed mirror curving over the front. Seeing herself reflected, distorted by these glass helmets was disconcerting and when they spoke their incomprehensible language, their voices came out somehow muted, as though she was hearing a dull echo of the words.

"Shall we try some new words today Arkady?" She couldn't tell if it was a question, a statement or something else entirely and even finishing with her name (sounding odd with his accent as it was) didn't offer any insight. So she just smiled. Maybe they would try teaching her more of their language, which would help eliminate most if not all of the communication difficulties they faced on a daily basis. Thinking for a moment, she considered how they might proceed. Then it came to her.

Pointing at the odd and quite dull knife on the now empty plate, but for a few bread crumbs, she said "_In Glaeban, this is called a knife. Kn-ife._" Randy seemed to comprehend and, pointing at the knife attempted to mimic her and failed. She tried again, "_Knife. Kn-ife._"

"_Kneef_" he managed on his second attempt. Closer granted, perhaps having the same trouble as she did in forming foreign words. "Knife" he said in his own language, repeating it a second time, slower for good measure. As he did so, she felt a... she didn't know what she felt. A ripple perhaps, or an odd tingle at the back of her mind. Her eyes were drawn to the door from which Randy had entered the cell, as though something was coming from that direction, and... getting closer? She couldn't tell what it could be, shook the feeling off as best she could and mentally composed herself. She would try and make some progress with her jailors today, she resolved, and she knew she was intelligent enough to be sure of a decent chance at success.

"Knife" she said confidently, doing her best to copy his pronunciation. No reaction. Puzzled Arkady tried again, repeating herself precisely, "Knife". Randy said nothing, didn't react, didn't move so much as a muscle. She paused for a moment unsure what to do, before venturing, "Randy?" She could manage his name well enough she was sure, but he didn't react to it at all. She tried again but he remained as still as a statue. Tentatively she reached toward him with her hand, slowly and deliberately but pulling it back to her before she made physical contact. Nothing.

She stood and tried his name again, "Randy? Good. Morning. Randy." which still elicited no response. Something was wrong. Her time spent during her formative years assisting her father as he plied his medical skills to help Glaeba's citizens, human and crasii alike had given her excellent if limited experience with many common maladies. This was not one she recognised but her experience did teach her some starting points to begin identifying such things. He was still and rigid as a statue except for his chest that still expanded and contracted as he drew in and let out regular, if shallow breaths. She waved her hand in front of his open eyes and when that brought no response, she snapped her thumb and middle finger together to try and make him blink, with equally little to show for it. Poking his arm (unscientific perhaps, but informative all the same) he felt normal and swayed with her nudge. A gentle shake and repeating his name didn't seem to help and she was growing alarmed. What if the others thought she had harmed him?

"_Help. Please help! Randy is sick and needs help!_" Arkady moved to the door to shout, punctuating her words with hard, hollow bangs from her fist. She knew they wouldn't understand what she was saying, but hoped that the fact she was shouting, causing a commotion and using the young man's name would be enough to achieve the desired effect. She tried again and listened at the door, pressing her ear against it, "_Help. I need help in here. Hello, can anyone here me?_" She couldn't hear a thing.

Squaring her shoulders she resolved to try and help him herself in the absence of other aid. She returned to him and grabbing him beneath the arms, grunted and lifted him off the chair to lower him to the ground. He landed a little harder than she intended, not reacting to the impact any more than he had to her previous attempts to coax a reaction from him. Putting his fall out of her mind, she hurriedly knelt beside him and straightened his arms and legs before bending her head to listen to his heartbeat. It was slow and steady, as was his breathing. He lived then, but his mind seemed to have shutdown. She considered what it might be and noticed an odd... aura perhaps, about him. Her eyes couldn't see it, her hands couldn't feel it, her ears picked up no sound and she could smell nothing untoward. But the same sense that told her something was swiftly coming closer towards her, now much closer than before, told her that there was something else going on with this man.

The air itself seemed... trapped around his prone form, almost like an invisible shield had enveloped him and now prevented any air from passing through. She also didn't know how she knew, but instinctively felt that there was a slightly greater pressure against his chest and his head, his ears in particular. She ignored the muffled, metallic clangs that she heard emanating from some way outside her cell, a distant hiss from approximately the same place or the loud buzz that began sounding intermittently from everywhere at once (and came from no insect or beast she had ever heard). Her mind was focussed and working furiously trying to puzzle out what her intuition was telling her. There was seemingly also something going on inside him but it was even more difficult for her to make sense of. It seemed to be controlling his blood flow of all things and her eyes... no, not eyes but something else brought into focus all his veins and arteries. Again the majority of the manipulation seemed to be focussed on his head. She had certainly never come across this before, perhaps a strange disease or a poison unique to wherever they were, or wherever Randy had come from. She didn't know what it was, how she might fix it and didn't really trust her instincts or know how to act upon them. She couldn't help this man, had no familiar equipment with which to even try and even if she had, she might and likely would only make things worse. She needed help for him or whatever was ailing him would continue to take its toll. Standing and returning hurriedly toward the door to her cell, she recommenced her shouting and banging.

"_Hello? Can anyone help in here? Randy needs medical attention at once! Help!_" she tried. Even if they blamed her for harming him, Arkady wouldn't let that prevent her seeking aid for him. She listened closely at the door, hearing distant and heavily muffled sounds of perhaps movement... and what she thought sounded like her name. She almost leaped away from the door at the shock. Her newfound and untrusted sixth sense told her something (_or someone?_) was very close indeed but it was what her ears could tell her in which she was more interested. Pressing even harder against the cold, solid door she strained to pick up any sound.

"_..kady?_" She definitely heard something that time. Closing her eyes to concentrate harder Arkady heard it again, emanating from the same general direction that her brain deduced the... presence she felt was. "_Arkady? Where are you?_". It was a man's voice she heard shouting, familiar she thought but too muffled to be sure. It was her name that she'd heard however and she could definitely understand the question that had followed it... in Glaeban!

"_Hello? Is anyone out there? Who is it? Can anyone help me here, please?_" Why wouldn't this wretched door open when she touched the square with the glo-bug inside, the way the one to next the washroom door did? Well, she knew the answer to that but it was irrelevant. The presence she felt changed direction abruptly and veered toward her. She stepped back from the door but shouted again, "_In here. I need help in here!_"

Whoever was out there was heading straight for the door now. She could feel him or her approaching, even though she couldn't hear any footsteps. The door hissed open agonisingly slowly but the grey figure outside bulled its way in before it had even slid all the way open.

"_Arkady?_" he said in a voice she knew all too well. He stopped moving the very instant his eyes met hers, rendered immobile by the sight of her, anything else he might have been going to say completely forgotten. He stood as still as her jailor lying on the floor, also forgotten. Time seemed to stop completely for a moment as no one moved, breathed or made a sound. "_Tides!_" he finally exclaimed, time abruptly resuming its course once again. He stared at her with eyes unblinking and unbelieving, slack-jawed as though she were a phantom or a mirage. Arkady stared back herself, not really sure how she felt towards the new arrival. Even at the best of times her feelings towards this man were confused and she had considerable trouble finding an appropriate thing to say. After all that Arkady had been through since he had come into her life, where would she even begin a conversation with the Immortal Prince?

Her current predicament seemed as good a place as any, she eventually concluded. "_Cayal. Where am I and just what is going on?_"


End file.
